Meet me in Apollo Square
by vampireintherain
Summary: This is the journey of a an 18 year old woman in Rapture till the point the war broke out in her search to become a better artist and struggles to understand love.
1. Chapter 1

April 12, 1947

Andrew Ryan's associates came to me six months ago; I was in a farmer's market like usual my paintings were not selling. It was not how I pictured my life to be, but after the war the social position for women started to shift lightly back on how things were. They told me that Andrew Ryan had eyes and ears everywhere and he was interested in the type of painting that I did. A few days later after the first invite they asked me to leave the world of the surface behind and be among the greats in a city they called Rapture. There was only one catch in this so call paradise, and it was that if I left for Rapture I could never come back. The war with the Germans took my father away, and two months later my mother feel ill and followed him to the afterlife. In other words I could not find anything to root me to these lonely streets of California. I was nothing more than an eighteen year old girl struggling to stay afloat. At the same time I harbored a secret that I knew society was not ready to accept and perhaps never will.

So I took my chances and left the world as I knew it, now I live in Rapture. It is dark and smelly and I often feel like I am living in the sewers or on the subways of New York City. Money is tight right now, so I reside on Pauper's drop paying rent to a man called Sinclair. He is an odd fellow. I came to paint yet lately the only thing I been doing is working on a dinner called Fishbowl as the rotten men who work on the Atlantic Express flirt with me any chance they get. However any money I'm not giving to Sinclair or to my own food expenses I'm saving it up to move up to a higher housing maybe in Apollo Square then maybe just maybe I will get the type of life I want to live.


	2. Chapter 2

April 23, 1947

 _It's been around 12 days since my last entry, As Rapture "flourishes" I wonder what will happen to us down here. Audio diaries had been introduced and are slowly flooding the market. I often stand by the markets wondering if I should get one, then I'm reminded that I can't and I go back to work._

"Hey doll-face. Need more coffee" shouted a man from across the room as I fixed it my name tag at the beginning of my shift. The name tag simply said Sylvia, Sylvia Baker…yet despise of my name tag proudly on my pink uniform. Doll-face is the name I usually answer too.

"Coming right up "I said to the man waving lightly with my right hand and I finished setting the food in front of another gentleman. I quickly picked up the hot coffee pot and quickly pour the coffee on the man's china cup. As soon as I did and turned around I felt a hand quickly wrapping on my small wrist. I turned around to see who it was to notice it was the same man, the one of the coffee.

"Do you have plans tonight?" he asked. I fought the urge to flinch at the man's advances and politely nodded.

"Yes, sir…Big plans "I told him slowly trying to lose the grip that he had on my wrist.

"Don't be like that. You and me tonight **the Limbo Room** " the man insisted as I completely freed my hand from his grip. I quickly gave him a glance and recognized him from a time I went downtown. He worked at the Pawn shop, a small establishment barely opened a few weeks ago.

"I'm terribly sorry sir" I tried to say again till suddenly a voice from behind interrupted us.

"Back off, Charlie. You ask the same thing every week when you are going to drop it"

I quickly turned around and saw it was Richard, our cook. He was an older gentleman in his mid-40s that always was kind to me. He walked out of the kitchen in his white full of grease apron with a spatula in his hand. His brunette slowly going white hair was under a hair net and stood between me and apparently Charlie. He didn't say anything more than that and Charlie backed down. He turned to me and told me to go back to work and I quickly nodded and walked off.

At the end of my shift I stood in the dressing room with the other waitress Patricia. During this time at night I always avoid all eye contact with her as we both got out of our uniforms. As she fixed her dress she turned to me and said

"I saw that Charlie was pressuring you again" she said

I slowly fixed my coat and nodded quietly to her.

"He is not your type, huh?"She asked me as she fixed her waves in front of a small mirror with a long comb.

I nodded again to her for it was always hard to describe to anyone about those things.

"So what kind of fella do you like?" she asked me suddenly making my brownish skin blush a soft pink.

I shrugged to her, "I don't know" I told her in the quietest voice I could muster and still be able to be heard.

Patricia just giggled making me blush even a brighter pink.

"Well I'm off, unlike someone I know I have a date" she told me as she stepped off waving good bye to me.

 _Of course she did_ \- I thought to myself as I closed the locker door with my uniform neatly folded inside. I locked it and walked out after saying good bye to Richard and apologized to him about the small scandal today with Charlie. I walked out of the **Fishbowl dinner** , seeing the lights get turned off behind me. It was only a couple of minutes back to my room. I walked slowly stopping right in front of **Marlene's Flower emporium**. It was closed, it is always closed by the time I get off work, and like many things in life that I wanted them all seemed to be away from me by a thick layer of glass. The flower arrangements were full of color, pink roses, yellow tulips, every flower arrangement so beautifully crafted and could be appreciated even in the dark.

I walked away from it slowly drawing the flowers in my head as I walked back to my room. I stopped right in front of the big sign that said **Sinclair Deluxe**. I let out a big sigh entering stopping only briefly to get a cream filled cake from the Circus of Values. _Is the cake dinner… I think it is_ \- I thought to myself as I opened the wrapper and took a large bite of it. By the time I reached my apartment's door the small cake was gone. I unlocked the door entering it slowly removing my shoes as I entered it. I turned on the lights and took a good look around my room. There wasn't much to see .There was a sofa a fridge, there wasn't much in it but an old fashion beer and some water. There was no stove as I had no use for it. On the living room near my sofa there was a couple of canvas and a suitcase with all my paints. I quickly took off my coat and rolled up my sleeves, and picked up a blank canvas and started to paint the flowers that I just saw today.

"Love" I whispered to myself…Just what it was anyways… I shook my head as I painted the yellow petals of the tulips as I saw them in my mind, shiny as the sun probably is somewhere just not here. I thought about a lot of things that nights as I try to define each flowers using yellows and oranges paints. I thought of my parents. My mother Elena Baker a Mexican American woman that my father met before the war and before the USA government tried to kicked out during the 1930s. Both where wonderful people and now both gone one practically after the other. We all lived in a small neighborhood in Los Angeles where the Mexican community was a bit more prevalent. I went to a brown kids school there till high school when I decided to quit at the age of 16.I left school right after an incident with a girl named Judy…Judy…that could had gone better.


	3. Chapter 3

I worked on my painting for two hours before I decided to stop for the night. I worked on the night shift every night, however I at least tried to go to sleep before it was morning. I was going to say before the sun comes up but to be fair ,the sun don't reach us here .I cleaned my hands with a wet gray rag and put away all my paint brushes . After everything was put away I scavenged my coat pockets and pulled out my tips for the night. I got forty dollars in tips tonight, and I must admit it was good night tonight. I picked the letters by the pneumo then I walked to my bedroom and placed the money on top of the bed a long with my letters. I spread them out so every dollar bill was facing up. I stared at every dollar, staring into the cold eyes of Andrew Ryan in each bill. This is the closest I knew I was going to get to meet the real Andrew Ryan and I knew it. Despite of him having interest in my art it was clearly not enough to require some of his precious time. I often hear from him on the newspaper but more often I do not. The high crust of Ryan and his elite group are so far from me. I divided the money I had into four piles of ten dollars each. I opened the combination of my safe next to my bed. The combination was 10-15-30. Each of one of the numbers had a meaning to me but I was too tired to care at the moment. Inside my safe there was 4 mason jars each with a label on them in my own handwriting. The first one said, rent which I paid at the end of each month, the next one said food which was the one that had the less money. The third jar said materials including the money I put today the jar had...ten dollars. Lastly the one with the most money the label said " **Future** ". I been saving money so I could move near the Artist Struggle in a nicer place in Rapture. As soon as I put all the money inside each respective jar I gave a quick glance of my other valuables. My valuables weren't nothing that nice to look at, my birth certificate stating that was born on April 20, and a photo of my parents, a small locket and handkerchief with pink flowers on it. I sat down on my bed opening the letters in front of me. Two of the letters were ads about new items that I was too tired to look at them .The third letter was the important one. It was from the man that ran the Artist's Struggle. I been sending him pieces of my work that he sells at his shop and gives me part of the earnings .The letter read that my latest painting was sold for 50 dollars and he looks forward to the day we could meet in person. Apart from the letter there was 25 dollars that I quickly put on the jar for future. I laid back on my bed too tired to even undress eventually falling asleep with shoes and all.

May 25, 1947

I sat by the window inside the Atlantic express with pocketbook on my lap. It was the first time I had ever been in one of these, I could see the fish on the outside swimming in groups. I had been on the train for almost an hour, feeling a little queasy. I tried to focus on the fish outside, trying to draft their shapes inside my head but that was only making matters worse. I closed my eyes and tried to think of nothing but it didn't work either. Ten minutes afterwards, the train arrived at the station. As soon as I stepped out I went to get my luggage, composing of two suitcases. I had no canvases I had sold all of the ones I had few weeks ago. Then I walked to the elevator that would lead me to the market street. I looked around for the building I was looking for was going to be my new home. According to the letter I had received a few days ago it was called 907. I looked up at the big sign that said 907 and it had an image of a man with a helmet with wings. I went to the lobby and I was quickly greeted by a man in his 40s of dark skin and well dressed.

"How can I help you today, miss…?" He spoke trailing off waiting for me to finish his sentence. I nodded as a gesture of hello and I introduced myself. "My name is Sylvia Baker. I called in about a room about a week ago and send the money thorough Pneumo"I told him.

He nodded "Oh yes, Miss. Baker, we been expecting you. My name is Frank Miller." he said as he opened a drawer. The drawer was full of keys, he carefully checked every label looking for the right one. Soon enough he found the one with my name.

"Oh here it is, Room 123A."He said then quickly pointing at a man with a cart. "Phil will help you with your luggage. If you need anything I would be here at the front desk" He said. I nodded to him and said good bye to him .Phil put my two suitcases on the cart and we both walked to the room. Phil was wearing the traditional red outfit for someone who is in that line of work.

"What brings you to Rapture, Miss.?" He asked breaking the silence.

"I am an artist" I told him. He smiled at me as if he approved the fact or maybe I looked the type.

"Rapture it is the perfect place to flourish in the arts. "He said as we arrived to my room.

"Here it is Miss." He said as unloading my luggage. I opened the door with my brand new key.

"Thank you for your help "I said to him, handing him a small tip. He put the money in his pocket, tipping his hat. "My pleasure, Miss. Welcome to the building 907."He said. He then left as I moved both suitcases to the inside. I touched the door quickly trying to find the light switch turning on the light. My eyes grew wide as the room looked at least twice as big as my old one did in the Sinclair deluxe did. I put the suitcase with my paint by the sofa. The sofa was a dark brown and it was next to a small television set near another sofa. I took my pocketbook and my other suitcase to the bedroom. On my way there I saw the kitchen that had counters, a fridge, and a stove which for me was new. The bathroom was next to the bedroom .It was small but it had a bathtub so it was quite lovely. I entered my new bedroom and otherwise of the size there was not much difference between my old room and this one. There was a large bed in the middle of the room. The covers were maroon and looked new. There was a safe next to it and a large wardrobe at the end of the wall. I flopped open my suit case on the bed and began to put my dresses, blouses, skirts and other various clothing items as well as shoes in the wardrobe. Then I placed my valuables on the new safe after inputting the code. It was the same code, I asked it to be changed before arriving here. I picked up my bathroom items and set them up where they should go. At last I decided to take a bath before I worried about everything else. After about thirty minutes I left the bathroom, with only a towel around my body and my brown hair dripping on my shoulders. I opened my bag pulling out a small container that had my hair dryer. I plugged it in to the closer outlet, connecting the tube to the bag and the bag to my hair. I sat down patiently as my hair got dry. I felt the heat on my scalp and hairs I stared at the new ceiling. The ceiling was not that interesting but I had nothing else to see at the time. I took the bag off and combed my slightly wavy hair. My hair currently was a shoulder length and it was a light brown color. As soon as that was done I put on some makeup then I went to the wardrobe and picked up a nice outfit. A black blouse, and on top of a white coat and a black skirt the length right to my ankle. I took a glance at my reflection before grabbing my keys and my pocketbook. I needed to introduce myself to the shop keeper at the Artist's Struggle.

I got out of my new home slowly and quietly, looking up just as slow. When I felt my heart stop for a split second. As I came out of my room, another person that lived in front of me was leaving their as well. The person was wearing a mailman suit and hat to match. Their hair was short as most men though. However what made my sheet rouge was the face that the person in front of me was a woman. I felt my eyes grow wide as if I had suddenly forgotten how to speak human languages. Surely my awkwardness was quickly noticed and she looked at me curious with a small smile at the corner of her lips. She rose her hand to wave and looked like she wanted to speak but I quickly ran off before I could hear any word at all. I ran to the end of the street before I stopped to catch my breath. I closed my eyes in disbelief as I was not sure what did I just do or for what reason. I hit my forehead with my hand sadly. I felt blood pounding in my ears and my heart racing .I slightly touched my chest realizing that I had experienced this before back in high school, before I dropped out. I thought to myself a single name before I walked away not sure what I should do or if it matter at all what I did.


End file.
